The Awakening
by VanPireNZ
Summary: What could have made Jane such a vicious and bitter vampire? A one-shot short story written for a private Writer's Challenge.


Author's Note:

This was my entry into a Writer's Challenge among friends. The requirements were:

Must be: Twilight Fan Fiction - can follow canon or not  
Must contain: horse, duck, rabbi and a sword and the phrase "you're on a diet"  
Must not: contain canon character death, not mix canon couples, no mary-sues  
Word length: minimum 1500 words

And no, even though two character's "die" in my story, I prefer to think of it as a re-birth.

Please note: Jane and Alec belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

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The smell was unmistakable. A fine mist of coppery essence saturated the room, clinging to the air amongst the echoes of screams that were still resonating from the stone walls. The fresh odour of death was intoxicating and I allowed my body to inhale, savouring the drunkenness that would only leave me wanting for more.

This time however, I sensed that something was significantly different. My tongue grazed over my bottom lip where it met with a single drop of human blood, sweeping it into my mouth hurriedly before anyone noticed my moment of weakness. As my mouth revelled in the forgotten zest and tang of human blood, my tongue sensed a sweetness it had not encountered in a hundred years. The flavour of fresh apples and honey laced the single drop of elixir and it tore through my body in search of the memories locked away far within myself, guilt the sentry at the door. My body stiffened as I tried to coax the anguish back into its cage, but it flooded my soul like a torrent of molten lava, rendering me helpless as the phantasm seared its way into my consciousness.

I breathed in deeply; adding fuel to embers that had laid in wait, instantly transforming them into a blazing inferno. The hint of death that bound to the air combined with the drug that now coursed through my body - physically transporting me to a long forgotten past - that fateful day where my body died more than one death.

**********

Wearily opening my eyes, I could see my father standing next to me gazing down in wonderment, his body poised with anxiety.

"Esther! Come quick. The Lord has heard our pleas and taken pity on us," I heard him exclaiming to my mother. "The fever has waned and returned her to us whole again," a smile parting his lips, before he leaned down to repeatedly kiss my hand that he cradled in his delicate grasp.

My mother's footsteps were echoing in the passage as she ran breathless into the bedroom at the back room of our house. She halted just inside the door as I turned my head gently to the side, smiling at the welcomed sight of her. I watched as her eyes widened, taking in my appearance as they travelled down my body and back up again before clouding over with fear. I could see the metamorphosis before my eyes as my mother's ashen face, stained with the tears of loss, hardened at the sight of me. Horror was creeping into the lines of her face that only seconds before were filled with hope and joy.

"Am I awake?" I asked in muffled voice; confusion stifling my words, holding them tightly as they tried to escape my lips. "I had a horrible dream, Father. Death had found me. He was disguised in beauty, assuming I would not be able to discern its true nature, but it was easy Father. You taught me well to see the truth in good and evil."

I watched as a pained look washed over my father as my words slowly recounted the details of my deluded sleep.

"I could see his soul plainly in his eyes, Father. They were bathed in red, like blood encapsulated and dark to the core. As he neared me, I raised my sword to defend myself, swiping at the demon with all my strength. Even though he bore marks from the repeated blows of my blade, he still managed to overcome me, gripping me tight while he drained away the purity of my life and soul."

Resting for a moment, I sought the reassurance from my father's voice, which was absent in both his and my mother's appearance.

"Am I safe?"

My mother leaned on the wall for strength as my father spoke.

"Yes my child. God has shown mercy," said as both my father, and my Rabbi. He took my hand in his, raising it to caress his face.

I lay for a moment, depleted by the recounting of my dream. The fear of it was still ripe within my throat and I sensed a subtle ache in my muscles from the battle I waged against Death. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply, reminding myself that it was over – that it was just a dream. I had triumphed in the end, as here I was, proof of life.

I glanced over to the bed next to me, relieved to find my brother lying near. A subtle swell of his chest, rising and falling ever so slightly, comforted me. I fell into a soothing rhythm that matched my brother's, and we breathed in unison, as only twins could do.

But with each new intake of air, I was greeted with multitudes of aromas that were familiar yet heightened and more intense. The smells were dancing in my head like a thousand suitors vying for my attention. The sweet smoke that rose from the wax of the candle burning next to my bed intertwined with the stench of manure from the horse that slept in the barn. Somewhere nearby, in the servant quarters perhaps, someone was roasting a rosemary-seasoned duck over an open fire. As I granted audience to these aromas, I noticed they were accompanied by heightened sounds. My ears could hear the lapping of the candle flame as it moved languidly with the slight breeze that wafted in through the window. The subtle melodic brays of the solitary horse in the stable told me he was deep in slumber and the skin of the duck was crackling from the heat of the flames. There was a pounding in my head like drums, giving rhythm to the movements around me, playing in time with the heartbeats of my parents.

Dizzy and nauseous, I leaned up from the bed as my brain tried to find purchase on reality. It was then that I stopped breathing in an effort to stem the overwhelming inflow of stimuli that were flooding my system, realising at that moment that my need for air was superfluous. Frightened, I looked to my mother for reassurance, only to feel a sudden rift open deep within my heart as I took in the disgust that pained her face. As a gasp escaped my mother's mouth, she reached out to place her hand on my father's shoulder, before drawing in a foreboding breath.

"You are not my daughter," she said, her head shaking with fierce disapproval. "My daughter died, as did my son. Her cold, lifeless body lay there, where you are now. Whatever gives you life within her body now, is not of God's creation."

Her words cut swiftly and sharply, finding passage to my heart, and cleaving it in two within my chest. An unfathomable pain rocked through my body as I stared at my mother, whose love was unfaltering and steadfast prior to this moment, only now to be replaced with empty loathing that sent a chill through the room and to the pit of my soul.

As I sat clutching my chest, I sensed a movement in the bed next to mine and I cast my head in the direction where my brother had been asleep just moments before. As he sat forward, looking around the room, he took in the sight, confusion cluttering his mind. As our eyes locked together, the true cruelty of the moment became evident. My brother's eyes replicated the ones from my dream. The eyes that belonged to Death himself – black hollowness wreathed in deep crimson.

A rage seemed to build inside my body, as the solidity of the world was crumbling beneath me. My body was writhing with fury as the last few moments took hold. My eyes trailed the flickering candle light along the floor, following the shadows where they danced at my mother's feet. I raised my crimson eyes toward my mother's empty gaze, and filled it with the heartache and pain that was burning inside me. I watched, as my mother curdled like sour milk under my stare, twisting and turning in texture and shape. Her contorted screams pierced through my body as I strangled the life from within her, watching in restrained horror as my mother's lifeless body fell to the ground.

My father stared at me, resignation painting his face. I reached my hand out to my father, and pulled him in close to me, placing a single kiss on his cheek. As I leaned in towards his neck, I heard the whispers on his breath - "I will fear no evil." And then I bit - sudden and succinctly - taking in the life of my father, his blood imparting my body with the succulent flavours of apples and honey still present from several days before when we celebrated Rosh Hashanah - our Day of Remembrance. It was indeed a day of remembrance, as I lowered my father's head to my lap, a single tear falling from his face and landing on my hand.

**********

"Jane!" Alec yelled, startling me from my reverie. "You can put your sword away now sister."

I looked to the sword in my hand, a thin layer of blood adhering to the sleek blade. I watched as the redness coalesced, forming small pools of liquid before meandering toward the edge of the blade and dripping to the floor.

Until today, I had not tasted the blood of a human since that last moment with my father, but its scent was more delicious today than it had ever been since that day so long ago. I had lived the last century only on the blood of animals, denying my body of what it craved the most. It had been my own personal penance and it had shaped the tatters of my soul and refined the power of my tortuous gift.

I looked again at my blade and took a staggering step backwards as the full force of my epiphany hit home. My father knew what I was before I did that day, and he accepted the fate that God had chosen for his children. The dichotomy of life was always present: good and evil, life and death. One could not survive without the other. He knew this as he knew that Alec and I were now the antithesis of his own life. He knew the sacrifice he had to make and accepted it as his duty. He had shed only the single tear, but it baptised me into my new life, releasing my soul for all of eternity.

I felt the last hinge of the vault door break free within me, unleashing the final traces of anguish that had lived in the darkness of my being. It coursed through my body, saturating it with enlightenment. I savoured the lingering remnants of the blood, and the forgiveness it had brought with it. The time had come to wholly embrace what I was; a vampire. I slid my fingers along the surface of the blade to capture the last of the blood before returning my sword to the sheath on my hip. Lifting my blood tinged fingers to my mouth, I licked them clean before I pulled the hood of my cloak up over my head and turned toward the door.

"Jane, where are you going?" asked Alec.

"To hunt. Are you coming?"

"But, you're on a diet, Jane!" said as if I had forgotten the lengthy penance I had paid.

"Not. Any. More."


End file.
